#he sold his citizens into slavery

[anakinh]

lasted approximately 2 hours into a new playthrough of Dragon Age: Origins before I downloaded a mod. god those mage cowls are ugly af

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 46: Lokabrenna

Summary: Loki makes an escape with you.

Word Count: 1,482

Author's Notes: We are back. 6 chapters to go and I'm going to do my best to keep to the once-a-week schedule.

Thrown Masterlist Loki Masterlist

Bruce Banner was a perfectly tolerable person to be around, probably. Loki could recognize this in an objective sense. He was polite, deferential even. Quite intelligent. He had a decent sense of humor, in a quiet sort of way. Easily the most amiable Avenger to have in one's company. Loki also knew, logically, that Bruce Banner and the Hulk were two separate entities that merely shared a common point of origin, on occasion. Still, despite all of this, when Loki was in the presence of the mild-mannered scientist he could think of little else aside from the marble floor of Stark's penthouse, and the sound it made as Loki passed through it.

As Bruce had stepped off the quinjet Valkyrie greeted him with a grin and a punch to the arm. "Hey, big guy." He responded with a nervous smile while rubbing his arm. "Hey." Before he had a chance to recover, Thor had swung in with one of his exuberant hugs. "Banner! Welcome back to New Asgard!" "Yeah, thanks, good to be here." Banner met Loki next and extended a hand. "Hey Loki, are you... uh, how are you?" The man seemed to be uncertain even of the question he was asking. Loki shook his hand, pleased that it seemed the discomfort wasn't entirely his to bear. "I'm well, Dr. Banner. And you?"

Loki had been made aware that Banner had played a key role in the Asgardians' escape from Ragnarok, and then Thanos after that. This explained the warm welcome he had received from the citizens of New Asgard. It did not explain the strange closeness he shared with the Valkyrie. It was Loki's understanding that she had sold the Hulk into slavery on Sakaar, yet they seemed to be on very friendly terms. There must be more to that story, but Loki considered that he may not want to know. Then again, she had also sold Thor into slavery and now she was essentially his advisor and lieutenant. Perhaps she was simply very gifted in making amends.

Part of the agreement that allowed the Æsir to settle here on Earth involved certain aspects of trade. They would be given a place to make their home, and in return the Asgardians would share their knowledge and technology with carefully-chosen human parties. Additionally, in exchange for allowing New Asgard to be built here specifically, several benefits of Stark Industries were being extended to the mortal town. Banner was here to oversee progress and move forward with these trades.

Blessedly, this meant that Loki's presence was not needed, as most of Banner's interactions were with the Æsir engineers and human officials. And so it was not much of an issue that Loki had somewhere else to be, and he quietly excused himself and slipped away from the clamor.

You had suggested another hike to spend the night on the mountain and Loki jumped at the opportunity. He hadn't told you of the dream he had when he was away at the compound, but the images from it had lingered in his mind. It was something he longed to recapture. You had invited Thor, but he declined, citing all the work that needed to be done. Loki had never been so grateful to his brother.

As he approached your cabin you were on the porch, laying out supplies that you would likely be asking Loki to transport. You straightened and smiled. "What took you so long?" "I beg your pardon." He leaned in to plant a quick kiss. "We received Bruce Banner along with a number of his apprentices today. I had to perform certain duties before I could diplomatically extricate myself." Your eyes lit up. "Bruce Banner? Bruce Banner is here?" Loki raised a brow. "Yes. He's here to learn of our technology and to grant us some of his." "Why didn't you tell me?" You turned your head toward New Asgard, peering down the road, as if you could see him from here. "Why is it of such keen interest?" "It's Bruce Banner! A world-renown scientist! The Hulk!" You eyes were still fixed down the road. Loki frowned. "Need I remind you that you dine with gods on a regular basis?" You waved dismissively. "Exactly, you're old news." He narrowed his eyes. "You shouldn't test me today, little bird. Soon we will be isolated on a mountaintop, alone in the darkness, far from help." He pulled you in close. "I'll have you completely at my mercy." You bit your lip and grinned with a new excitement in your eyes. "You promise?" He chuckled, his nose grazing yours. "I would say I should teach you a lesson but something tells me you would be too willing a student."

You laughed as he released you, then turned back to the provisions you were organizing. "How long is Banner here?" "A few days, at least." "Great, we can have him for dinner tomorrow." He sighed. "Must we?" You smirked. "Aw, are you still sore from that time he beat you up?" You offered him a mocking pout. "Show me where it hurts." Loki sulked. "My pride, mostly." "Well, that's ideal. You've got plenty of that to spare." You straightened and swung a pack over your shoulder. "No reason why we can't be social." Loki folded his arms and leaned against the post of your porch. "Perhaps I simply prefer not to?" "Oh, don't worry." The mocking tone had returned to your voice. "It's just a little dinner. I promise I won't let the big scary monster get you." Loki glared. "One day, you will reach the edge of my patience." You grinned. "Not today? I'll keep looking for it." You gave him a conciliatory peck on the cheek. "Now magic up these supplies so we can hit the trail." "Your mortal frailty is the only reason I tolerate this treatment." Loki begrudgingly waved a hand and vanished the items, then followed you down the road to the trailhead.

The climb felt different this time. It felt almost clandestine with just the two of you. As if Loki was sneaking away from all of his troubles. Like you were leading him to a paradise where they didn't exist. The hike was easy, with light spirits and laughter.

You grew quiet as you reached the end, and stopped altogether before stepping out onto the terrace. You stood for a moment, looking out onto the outcrop, and it occurred to Loki that this would almost certainly be your first time here without Ash. He reached down and to your hand in his. After a moment you sighed, squeezed his hand, and managed a slight smile as you looked up at him. "Come on, let's go make camp."

After a brief stop to admire the view, the both of you set to work. You pitched the tent, Loki gathered firewood, though not nearly as much would be needed this time. Spring was waning and the nights were growing warmer. Dinner was cooked and shared, and afterward Loki found himself seated on the ground, his back against a boulder near the fire. You were stretched in front of him, with your back to his chest, your head resting back against him. His arms wrapped around you and in turn your arms held his. The two of you gazed out over the landscape, which was bathed in gold and shadow as the sun began its descent. A few quiet words were shared but it seemed agreed upon that this moment was meant to simply be absorbed.

Sequestered away here with you, this was exactly the peace Loki had craved. He wanted to tell you about his dream. He wanted you to know that for him the majesty of this place was intrinsically tied to you, so much so that when he was longing for you this is where his mind brought him in his sleep. It felt like something you should know.

Before he could find where to start, you raised a hand toward the horizon. "Hey look, your star is out." The sun had begun its retreat in earnest, and the first stars were making their appearances. Just above the horizon was the one you were pointing out. "Our star." He corrected. You turned your face toward him, a brow raised. "Our star?" He nodded. "You told me it was named 'Lokabrenna', correct? My burning?" You looked back to the horizon, as if the star could explain. "Yes, that's right." "Then it is our star." He assured, leaning forward to graze his lips against the shell of your ear. "For I burn for you." You turned to him again with a wild affection in your eyes, which he could only appreciate for a moment before you pulled him to you and kissed him with a fervor that was unexpected but immediately reciprocated.

Loki felt the rise of familiar flames.

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[legitalicat]

Out of Time

Chapter 3 - "Dinner and Dessert"

AN: Chapter 3 my loves! I hope you enjoy this one :) Also I'm sorry if this is bad I've only ever written smut like 2x before this. If you're looking for better smut, I always always always recommend @lovelykhaleesiii

If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!

If anyone is interested in me starting a tag list, please feel free to let me know!!

Find the series Master list here!

Summary: As the day comes to a close, she can only think of what has happened. With having less than a full day to understand the situation, her thoughts are all consuming. Her beloved twin, Jacaerys, shows he has only ever cared for her.

18+ every one

TW: SMUT SMUT SMUT!!!! P in V, Targcest (is it Targcest if their last names are Velaryon?), profanity, dirty talk, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex guys), Jace has a monster in his pants, Jace being kinda dom

Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon x twin!Reader, mentions of Aemond Targaryen x Reader, mentions of Alys Rivers x Aemond Targaryen

Word count: 3.6 k

Aemond had accompanied me to the Dragon Pit, as was my original intention. And it was time well spent in all honesty. He spoke to me about the time that I was gone. Just as Mother said, he had gone around the entire realm to attempt to find me. Apparently, he had spent a long time in Harrenhal, the seat of my blood father’s family.

What I hadn’t expected, though, was him telling me of this woman he had met there named Alys Rivers. According to him he had grown fond of her and even attempted to be with her. He claimed it was to try to get over me, as all logic pointed to me being dead. I stopped listening.

When I was back in my chambers, with nothing to do but think as I waited for dinner, I could only sit in the window seat overlooking Blackwater Bay. My finding didn’t make sense to me.

If I were taken by pirates like seemed to be a popular theory, why was I not in Essos? I would probably fetch a fair price if they sold me into slavery. Or why had they not demanded ransom? As a princess of the realm, my identity was not a secret, even if I didn’t have the signature Targaryen hair. I had done as much as possible to help the citizens of King’s Landing. I had done a tour of the Seven Kingdoms to meet with several Lords and their sons to consider for marriage. There was not a time in which I was ever hidden away.

“Your brain is going to break if you continue to think so hard,” Jace said from beside me. My gaze snapped to him, trying to steady my heart from the shock. “It is just me, issa dāria.”

“Must you sneak in here like that?” I scolded him yet I was certain the only thing stern about me was my tone. I was too happy to see him to control the smile that crept onto my face.

He was carrying a tray with two plates piled high with food and two cups. He set it on a nearby table before coming back to stand by my side.

“I wanted to have time with you. We have not seen each other since the afternoon,” he explained to me.

He gave me a soft smile. Everything about him was soft. His hair laid in loose curls that bounced with every motion. His lips were plump, eyes round and a deep brown, and even his sharp jawline was offset by full cheeks. Hell, even down to what he wore was soft. A loose fitting, long sleeved white linen shirt with strings crossing over the space between his collarbones tucked into the waistband of his brown cotton pants. Unlike most, he didn’t often wear shoes around the castle unless he had to go before the council or maybe a formal dinner.

No matter how much I loved Aemond, Jace was a part of me. I loved him in nearly every way a person could. He and I were two pieces of the same soul. We could spend all day together and never need a break. He listened to me rant about every subject I ever read about, learned High Valyrian for me. He was good and kind and sweet.

“And the food?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I thought perhaps dinner with all of us at once may prove to be too much tonight, so you and I could eat in here. I’ve already spoken to Mother and told her,” he said.

I chuckled and stood from my seat. Without any hesitation, he took my hand in one of his hands and pulled me closer by my waist with the other. Standing here, chest to chest with him, the world felt quiet.

“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly. He was sure not to hold me too tightly.

“Physically I hurt,” I whispered. It was best if I were honest with him. “Otherwise, I’m just confused. None of it makes sense. And to think of missing five years with you causes an unbearable ache in my chest.”

He pressed his lips to my forehead. It was how he comforted me when he had no idea what to say. Always handling me with great care like it was his life’s mission. There was no amount of affection too small to him.

He said nothing else before helping me into a chair at the table. The silence felt nice if I were honest. With him, I didn’t feel like I had missed anything.

“Luke is happy you’re back,” he told me after he had sat down. “So is Joffrey. They missed you greatly.”

“I cannot wait to see them. As well as Little Aegon and Viserys. They all have grown so much,” I responded, tears welling up in my eyes.

My plate had a venison roast with potatoes and carrots. A simple meal but one of my favorites. Dragonstone had the largest deer I had seen which was an impressive feat considering how many dragons roamed free on the island. But with such an abundance of the meat, we had it frequently when we lived there.

“I love you,” he said. He spoke it in such a way nobody could question his sincerity. He had always been honest to a fault.

“I love you,” I said before taking a bite of food. It was perfect and heavenly.

“So then why did you go to Aemond? Why spend the afternoon without me?” His voice was pained and his lip quivered a little.

Did he not know that it was not that way? It wasn’t like I chose Aemond over Jacaerys. He had merely been the one to come to my room.

“My moon, I had been on my way to see Vhaela and he approached me. I did not go seek him out,” I nearly pleaded with him. I reached across the table to take his hand in mine and squeeze it.

“I am not oblivious to the fact you were with him in the year you spent here with grandsire. But you and I are meant to be husband and wife. Formally so, now,” he whispered. His eyes moved to look at his plate.

My heart ached at the thought of hurting him. He was everything to me. My best friend, the moon and stars in my night sky, my fire on a cold night. When I spoke of him being my other half, it was not an exaggeration. Without him there was no me.

Even so, I could not pretend that everything was fine and as it was before I woke on the beach. While I had been stuck in place, everyone around me continued to grow and thrive and change. Pretending they hadn’t was like ignoring the rain as it washes away the earth. I would be fine as long as it was raining and I could use the water to maneuver. But once the flood subsided, I would be stranded without knowing where I was.

“But should we be? It has been five years, Jacaerys. Hell, I wasn’t even with you for a year before I disappeared. What if the person you are now does not love the person I am?”

“I could give you everything you could ever wish for when I am King. I will give you every child your heart could desire, I will love you until my final breath. Why is that not enough?” he asked before looking back up at me. The way he said it made me question if he was more hurt or angry. “Or is this back to the ridiculous notion that since Aegon the Conqueror had two wives you could have two husbands?”

“I wish to know where my heart truly lies. I wish to know if I marry you it is purely for love and not anything to do with duty. Why can you not give me that?”

He was silent for a moment longer than I would have liked. Was it truly an unreasonable request? All I ever wanted was a life of love. I knew Jace would love me for as long as we lived, and I would love him. But if it weren’t an equal love, if it were a love that was weighed down by a sense of duty, where was the honor in that? How could I subject both of us to that?

“So you wish to replace me?” he asked me. He yanked his hand away from me as he pushed up from the table. “I can only assume with Aemond.”

“I am not replacing you!” I said firmly. “You are my twin, my other half, there is no replacing you.”

I quickly stood up too, trying to be on his level, to prove I was on his side. But it was too quickly and I cried out in pain. The Maesters figured it had only been a month at most since they were cracked. As such, they warned me of the potential for severe pain, making it difficult to move or breathe without risking it. At first I thought they were full of shit, but with my ribs feeling like they’re on fire and my breathing causing agonizing pain, I realized I had just been stubborn.

No matter his anger, he rushed to close the distance between us and hold me steady. Even when he was angry or hurt, it was never enough to take over his compassion. Jace truly was too good for this world.

I couldn’t help but nuzzle him as he held me. Never was it my intention to hurt him. I just didn’t want to rob something from him that he above all people deserved. A happy, love filled life.

“How could you do this to me?” he whispered while holding me close. “I have lived without you for over six years. I alone waited for you.”

“It is not something I’ve done to you, Jace,” I insisted. “I do not wish to exclude you. I just want to explore my heart.”

He sighed softly and set me back down in my chair. Kneeling in front of me, he pushed my hair back from my face. I loved him so much. I could only hope he still understood that.

“I have dreamt of you every night since you left my side,” he whispered. “Even so, I cannot make you unhappy. If you are sure, then I will not object. But do not make me stay away from you.”

It was never easy to stay away from him. The first time I ever tried to was when I became aware of how desperately I wanted to cross the lines of what was proper. Being around him had been overwhelming, so I elected to just stay away. But eventually he became frustrated with me and came to my room in the middle of the night to demand answers. That was the night he took my maidenhead. To this day I wouldn’t change a thing about it.

“Then you cannot ask me to stay away from him. I want this to be true and fair, issa dārys,” I whispered to him.

He said nothing, instead moving forward and pushing his lips to mine. His movements were cautious as to avoid causing me more pain in my busted lip, but I could feel a hunger behind it. All thoughts but him left me.

Jace pulled away far too soon, standing from his position in front of me. Within a moment he had me in his arms, holding me off the floor. I couldn’t help but giggle wildly at this. The sound made him smile and then he carried me to my bed.

In truth, for the longest time this was our bed. No matter how often our parents tried, we always found our way back into the same bed. It is why the room is decorated equally in our favorite colors. Once we had painted the wall behind the bed to look like a sunset, mixing stunning oranges and purples that felt like home. Warm and wonderful just like Jace.

“I love you,” he whispered in my ear as he began desperately pulling at the laces along my back that held my dress to me.

“I love you,” I whispered, pulling at his shirt. He pulled back just enough to allow me to pull it over his head and toss it aside before he put his lips to my neck.

My dress fell from my shoulders and chest, leaving my breasts exposed to him. The way Jace stared with nothing short of an animalistic hunger made me whimper in pleasure. Within a matter of moments he was massaging the left one and attaching his lips to the right. He sucked little red marks into the flesh, so insignificant that they would disappear by the morning, but leaving a stinging sensation wherever he touched that reminded me this was real.

When he took my hardened nipple in between his lips, grazing it with his teeth, I gasped in pleasure. It had been far too long since I had felt his touch. He made sure I was aware of it, too. He sucked eagerly, never once stopping the massaging movements he made with his hand. Moans of his name fell from my lips as though he were the god I worshipped.

He pulled away from me with a loud pop. “Always been so perfect for me,” he whispered to me. “Made for me, weren’t you, issa dāria?”

I was rendered speechless as Jace pulled my dress from me completely, followed quickly by his pants. In his naked form he was everything a girl could ask for. His muscles were firm and well defined, biceps large enough so that I could not wrap a hand around them. Any baby fat on his stomach had melted into six individually defined muscles. Somehow there was no hair along his chest, but a small line of hair connected his navel to the curly brown hair at the base of his cock.

Every time I saw his cock, my jaw dropped slightly. He was easily ten inches in length and thick enough so that I could barely touch my thumb and middle finger together when holding it. It was monstrous in size but he was so loving and sweet it never caused excessive pain. His cock was hard, red at the tip with pre-cum beading on it. I glanced up to his face to find him blushing as I looked him over.

“Still so shy after all the nights we spent together?” I asked him quietly.

“You must remember that while it has not been so long for you, it has been damn near seven years for me. So shut up,” he said, blushing even more at my teasing. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“No passage of time could ever change the love I have for you, or how perfect I find you,” I whispered before taking one of his hands in mine.

He moved to hover over me, a knee on either side of my own, his cock resting against my thighs. His eyes were easy to follow as he dragged his gaze along my body, starting at my face and working his way down. Every cut or scar, no matter how small, earned a kiss against the skin. Taking extra care with the bruise on my ribs, he pressed small kisses along the edges of it where it did not cause any pain. The pure intimacy of it was enough to cause a heat to build as my pussy became increasingly wet.

Just as he was about to continue leaving kisses down the rest of my body, I reached down to grab his chin. The touch was enough to get him to connect his gaze with me.

“Love me, Jace,” I whispered, pleading with him. I couldn’t take the sweet torture that was his foreplay.

“You are not ready for me yet, love,” he said.

“I am plenty wet for you. The rest I do not care about,” I told him.

“I do not wish to cause you more pain,” he insisted, but I leaned up and kissed him, my eyes fluttering shut.

This time it was I who kissed him hungrily. Being like this with him, I felt like I had been starving and all that I wanted was right in front of me. My sweet twin, one who had always put me above anyone else. Even now when I can feel how needy he is as his cock leaked pre-cum onto my thigh, he needed to put me above him.

Carefully I slid down some, so that his cock was now resting on my hip. Reaching between us I grabbed it, giving a few lazy strokes. He groaned against my lips when I aligned the tip to my waiting cunt.

He pulled back just enough to separate our lips. My eyes opened quickly so that I could look at him. His eyes were soft, waiting for me to tell him to go.

I nodded ever so slightly. That was all he needed to push forward into me. Already he was moaning my name as he sunk inch after inch into me. It ached quite a lot after not having him inside me for so long. But still, I couldn’t ask him to stop. The ache was pleasurable and needed.

He got nearly three quarters of his cock inside me before he stilled. He was breathing heavily, obviously struggling with restraint but giving me time to adjust. I pressed kisses over every part of his face before laying back so that I could admire him. Jacaerys was a god among men, that I was certain of.

“I’m okay, love,” I whispered to him. One look in my eyes was all he needed to be sure.

He hooked my right leg behind my knee and pulled it to lay against his chest. A cry of both pleasure and pain came out of my lips at the way this caused him to reach further in me than he ever had. There was a small smirk on his face. The cheeky fucker knew exactly what he did.

Setting a near torturous pace, he pulled out of me slowly and pushed back in. The pain I felt was indistinguishable from pleasure. Every twitch and every throb of his cock, I could feel entirely. Then Jace pressed his thumb to my clit, rubbing in tandem with each movement of his hips. When his cock was buried inside me, he rubbed against it eagerly, like he was trying to make me cum right then and there. And then every time my body started tightening up and I began to see stars, he pulled out to just his tip and all but stopped touching my clit.

I glared at him the sixth time he did it while feeling my approaching orgasm back off. It made him chuckle as he bent down, pressing my knee to my shoulder, with only the tip of his cock nestled inside me.

“You feel so good, you know that, love?” he whispered to me. “Feels like your cunt was designed with my cock in mind. Bet I would fit perfectly if I went all the way to my balls, don’t you?” With widened eyes I nodded eagerly. “Have I fucked you stupid already, pretty girl?”

This was a side to him I hadn’t seen before. Normally he was whispering praises to me, thanking the gods for me, and I gave him the same. But it was not unwelcome. In fact, I could feel myself clench around him as a whine built up in my throat.

“That’s okay, baby, don’t need you to say anything. Can feel how much you love this,” he whispered before driving his hips forward.

I wrapped my left leg around his waist so that I could pull him closer into me. Each powerful thrust had me moaning out his name. The sounds of my moans and his heavy balls slapping against my ass was all that could be heard echoing around the room. A wave started building inside me, the intensity of it increasing while he stroked my clit again. This time he never let up.

“Cum around my cock, pretty girl,” he said to me. “Fuck, Y/N, so fucking tight. So perfect for me.” His breathing became more labored as he punctuated each word with a moan.

“Gods, Jace!” I cried out when the orgasmic wave crashed over me. He looked to where his cock sank into me. The evidence of my orgasm soaked his stomach, sliding down his skin and dripping onto the bed.

Jace’s thrusts became erratic as my cunt squeezed around him. Within seconds, he was crying out my name and his hips stuttered to a stop. I could feel every inch of his cock throb and twitch as his cum poured into me.

He was very careful as he pulled out. Both of us whined at the loss of contact, but his turned quickly into a moan when he saw a string of my juices mixed with his between his cock and my body. With a goofy little smile he laid beside me and pulled the blanket up over the both of us.

“You have had my heart for our entire lives,” he whispered to me. “I am not giving yours up without a fight.”

With one last kiss to my forehead, he held me close to him before we both went to sleep.

[dreamsforthedamned]

Fallout 4: Companion Age HCs

Cait: 25. She was sold to slavery at a very young age, and (ignoring the whole Psycho addiction) she seems young.

Curie: 31. I believe synths are usually made near the age of 30, as there's not a lot of visual changes in the body for some time in that period.

Danse: 27. He looks older than he is (PTSD amirite) but I don't think BoS soldiers, especially ones that actually go into battle, last very long.

Deacon: mid-40s. One of the oldest in the list. He has seen some shit.

Dogmeat: 2. A strapping young lad!

Hancock: 40-something. He stopped counting after going ghoul.

MacCready: 23 (canon)

Nick Valentine: 50's. He has that Dad Vibe™.

Piper: 26. College student vibes.

Preston: 24. Surprisingly young, definitely doesn't act like it. A prime example of the term "old soul", partly because like Deacon, he has seen some shit.

X6-88: 30's. Synth reasons.

Longfellow: 67. Not old enough to feel like a grandpa, but bordering on it.

Gage: 36. He's practically a senior citizen by raider standards, only got this far cuz he's smarter than most (and refuses to do any drugs ever).

Maxson: 20 (canon). Looks 30, probably due to stress (and his raging alcoholism)

Desdemona: 33. Insanely smart and experienced.

Ronnie Shaw: 50s. Self proclaimed old dog.

Mason: 25. Blood of his enemies keeps him strong.

Nisha: 20. Covers her face to hide her age.

Mags Black: 28.

William Black: 26.

[kookie-doughs]

Evermore

Dracule Mihawk X Reader

-Your evermore with Mihawk is a story to be told

Chapter 1: I Was The One Who Had It All, I Was The Master Of My Fate

The island was bathed in the soft hues of sunset, a tranquil paradise now stained by the recent clash of pirates. The aftermath of the Red-Haired Pirates' intervention painted a scene of contrasting emotions on the once troubled island. The air carried a sense of relief, mingling with the residual tension that still lingered like a fading echo.

Strewn across the sandy shores were remnants of the tumultuous battle—broken weapons, discarded pirate flags, and the occasional charred mark on the earth—all testaments to the chaos that had been averted. The island's residents moved with a renewed purpose, repairing the damage inflicted upon their homes while grateful smiles and whispers of gratitude flitted through the air like a shared secret.

The village, once shrouded in the shadows of despair, now basked in the soft radiance of newfound hope. The wooden structures, adorned with vibrant tapestries and flowers, stood as beacons of resilience against the adversity that had threatened to consume them. Laughter, hesitant at first, began to resonate from the now-reopened market stalls as merchants and buyers alike engaged in the timeless dance of commerce.

Citizens bustled about, picking up the pieces of their shattered lives. Among them, you moved like a ghost, haunted by memories of the invaders who had ravaged your home. Sold into slavery, you were a mere shadow of your former self, shrouded in trauma.

Amidst the chaos, a solitary figure stood out. Dracule Mihawk, the enigmatic Warlord of the Sea, had graced this island with his presence. Red-Haired Shanks and his crew welcomed him warmly, celebrating their recent victory. As the festivities ensued, Mihawk's keen gaze fell upon you, a lone figure on the fringes of the crowd. Your eyes met his, and a shiver ran down your spine.

Shanks, ever perceptive, noticed Mihawk's interest and nudged him playfully. "Seems like someone's caught your eye, Hawk-Eye."

You tensed, ready to flee, but before you could act, Mihawk stepped between you and Shanks. "Akagami, stop frightening her."

Mihawk's words held a strange comfort, and you hesitated, your eyes darting between the two formidable figures. Shanks smiled kindly at you, but his presence still felt overwhelming. As you turned to leave, Shanks made a move to reach out, but Mihawk's hand halted him with a gentle but firm touch.

"Akagami, give her time. Leave her alone."

The night settled over the island, and the festivities dwindled. Mihawk, shrouded in his dark aura, left the crowd and followed the path you had taken. Through winding alleys and dimly lit corners, he found you huddled in the darkest and most secluded part of the village. Mihawk's presence was unsettling, but your fear had been replaced by curiosity.

He approached silently, his boots making no sound against the worn cobblestone. You looked up at him, your eyes wide with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. Mihawk said nothing, respecting the silence that enveloped you. Just as he was about to leave, you summoned the courage to grab the edge of his coat, your fingers trembling.

His gaze met yours, and you pointed to the sword strapped to his back The legendary blade, Yoru, gleamed faintly in the moonlight. With practiced ease, Mihawk drew the sword and placed it before you. Your heart raced as you hesitantly reached out, your fingertips grazing the blade's surface. A mixture of awe and fear filled your eyes as you studied the intricate craftsmanship.

Seeing your desire to touch the sword, Mihawk's lips curved into a rare smile. "You may touch it."

Hesitantly, you extended a trembling finger and brushed it against the blade's edge. A rush of emotions surged through you, and a genuine smile tugged at the corners of your lips. Mihawk's own smile deepened, as a silent connection formed between you and the sword.

Just as the moment seemed to linger, Shanks appeared, his jovial laughter cutting through the silence. Your guard snapped back into place, and you retreated, your heart pounding. Mihawk swiftly moved between you and Shanks, his grip on Yoru tightening subtly.

Shanks laughed heartily. "Hawk-Eye, I didn't expect to find you here."

Mihawk's gaze remained fixed on you, and he simply nodded in response. With a playful wink at you, Shanks allowed himself to be dragged back to the crowd by Mihawk, their shadows fading into the night.

The following day, as the sun began to rise, Mihawk returned to the secluded area he had found you. There you were, sitting, your gaze fixed on the sword that had captured your heart. A silent understanding passed between you and Mihawk as he picked up the sword, the weight of its history evident in his grasp.

You looked up at him, your eyes bright with anticipation and curiosity. He extended Yoru toward you, a silent invitation. The sword practically hummed with energy, and you couldn't resist. With a hesitant smile, you reached out and took hold of the hilt, the cool metal sending a thrill through your fingertips.

Mihawk settled onto the ground beside you, his presence both comforting and enigmatic. As you inspected the blade, your excitement spilled over into a monologue about its history, its legends, and its unparalleled craftsmanship. Mihawk listened intently, his usual stoicism softened by genuine interest.

As your words flowed, Mihawk's curiosity grew. "You seem quite knowledgeable about swords."

You looked up at him, a mixture of emotions in your eyes. "I was swordswoman."

Mihawk's eyebrows lifted slightly, surprised by your admission. "And do you possess a blade of your own?"

A wistful smile tugged at your lips. "I did, once. A legendary sword, passed down through generations. But it was taken from me."

Mihawk's gaze turned contemplative, as if he were piecing together the puzzle of your past. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his tone measured. "Would you like to come with me?"

Without hesitation, you nodded, a spark of excitement igniting within you. "Yes."

Mihawk's lips quirked into a faint smile. "May I ask why? Why would you agree without hesitation?"

You met his gaze, your eyes holding a mixture of gratitude and determination. "Because your sword is the only thing that can bring me back to who I was before... before everything happened."

Mihawk nodded, his gaze softening. He shared stories of his own home, his castle perched atop a desolate cliff, where the sound of crashing waves was a constant companion. Your heart raced at the thought, and the idea of a new beginning filled you with hope.

~

Mihawk's boat glided smoothly into the calm waters surrounding his remote island sanctuary. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the tranquil scene. As the anchor found purchase and the gangway was lowered, Dracule Mihawk stepped ashore with his characteristic grace.

His arrival, however, was met with a sight that drew a rare quirk of his eyebrow. There, standing near the shore with her arms folded and a pout on her lips, was the ever-quirky Perona. Her vibrant pink hair stood out against the backdrop of the island's lush greenery, a vivid contrast to her annoyed expression.

"Finally! You took forever to come back, you know," Perona huffed, her tone a blend of frustration and relief.

Mihawk turns regarded the brash yet endearing ghost princess. "I apologize for any inconvenience, Perona."

Perona's annoyance seemed to dissipate as she caught sight of the turning away. "Hmph. Well, it's about time. Leaving me here with that marimo was a nightmare."

Mihawk arched an eyebrow. "Marimo?"

Perona rolled her eyes, her exasperation evident. "Yes, that swordsman you're so fond of, that green-haired, three-sword-wielding Roronoa Zoro. He's insufferable, you know. All he does is train, act all serious, and get into fights. And the way he talks back to me! I can't take it!"

Mihawk's stoic façade held firm. "Ah, I see. Zoro has a knack for invoking strong reactions."

Perona's arms crossed once more as she launched into a full-blown tirade. "Strong reactions? That's an understatement! He doesn't appreciate my powers, always giving me that scowl. And he's utterly dense when it comes to my Negative Hollows. I tried to have a conversation, you know, something civilized, and all he wanted to do was spar!"

"It appears you had quite the eventful time."

Perona huffed, her annoyance still palpable. "Eventful? More like excruciating! I'm just glad you're back so I can have some semblance of sanity."

"I am tired, may I retire back home? You can regale me with your adventures in dealing with our dear marimo whilst we walk."

Perona's scowl softened into a begrudging grin, and she floated closer to him. "Fine. But you owe me. Big time."

Masterlist | Next

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @nykie-love-anime @khaleesihavilliard

[jingle-jangle-spurs]

Please reblog for sample size :)

Info:

Moriarty- keeps Hob enslaved and forces Nova to be a prostitute. Knows where the LW’s dad is and uses that to extort caps from them, also keeps blackmail info on Megaton residents.

Myron- proud inventor of Jet - that got a whole town in addicted and relies on New Reno crime families for supply - treats mutants & slaves as objects, unapologetic rapist who tries to roofie an low INT female CO.

Daniel- treats The Sorrow like children, forces himself into making decisions for them as he suffers from White Saviour Complex, hides Walking Cloud’s husband’s death from her.

Swanick- ex Powder Ganger who is gleeful about winning the lottery while everyone around him suffered fates worse than death, abandoned Boxcars with his broken legs (I’d do that too to be honest )

Jones- head slaver of Paradise Falls, wants to enslave the kids of Little Lamplight.

Lynette- doesn’t believe anything the CO tells her, enforces the racist, elitist policies of Vault City and its feudal class system, sees Gecko’s leaking power plant as an act of war and wants the ghoulies there killed.

Crawford- sold a pregnant Carla Boon into slavery because she didn’t like Novac.

Codman- elitist upperstands resident

[isekaithatplease]

You know what's even ironic,the fact that Kaufman is still in love with navier even though she's now pregnant with heinreys children. And the fact that kosair,naviers brother is a violent man that caused him to be outside the borders and how he even goes tok far as to feed rashta abortion drugs is so scummy. How the hell didn't navier even stop or at least call them out for their shit?

Because Navier doesn’t care. Slavery is a huge problem in her empire but she barely bats an eye at that when we’re supposed to believe she’s this ‘fantastic empress.’ Honey- where??? ((Stop congratulating people for doing the bare minimum lol)) It’s really just a bunch of telling but no showing especially for a story that should be a bit more politically involved?? Plus We really don’t see her interact with the lower class save for that magical orphan who- as we see has to be magical in order to get said attention in the first place! (Fantastic philanthropy really)

How ironic would it have been if she’d been originally pushing to end slavery before Sovidiot brought in Rashta?

Ngl Id actually be more sympathetic to Navier as a whole as despite her cold exterior it showed that you know she was actually pushing for reform for the lower class citizens! But nah she can’t be bothered to deal with peasants.

But back to your point- Can someone please tell me what the whole point of the Kaufman/Navier plotline was? Because honest to goodness it sounds like pointless drama to extend the story length at this point. Either that or just show how irresistible goddess Navier is.

Someone once reblogged/replied to my last post and said that no one in this series is a morally good person. That’s fair. I agree they’re all pretty terrible people in their own ways. Honestly I’ve said it time and time again. I don’t have a problem that they’re terrible people.

Good characters =/= good people

What irks me is when the novel disrespectfully handles heavy topics like slavery and trauma to build up its Mary Sue fl. The whole story markets itself as being some pro feminism revenge story but it’s really not? It doesn’t feel like at least half of the cast gets their proper comeuppance? No seriously- Sovieshu should’ve kicked the bucket. Heinrey and his creepy friend should’ve been held more accountable to a higher degree as well.

Navier isn’t a girl’s girl at all. To both the character and story’s fault Everyone must either worship her or hate her. No one who disagrees with her is allowed any sort of meaningful empathy that Navier in my opinion is sort of undeserving of. (Anyone is free to argue this- but she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and everything magically works out for her. I’m supposed to feel more sorry for her than the girl who was sold by her abusive father into slavery?) hahaha no.

At this point I’d advise people who actually want to see a pro feminism story with political intrigue to read ‘I’ll Saved this damn family!’ Now that’s a story that can treat other women who aren’t the fl well and promotes pretty good relationships between them too.

[cosmicjoke]

im so perplexed there are kenny riders here??? that man is an abusive psycho maniac mass murderer but i've been seeing more and more posts like that ever since bad boy release. literally like those netflix serial killer doc that romantasiced them.

I seriously don't get it either.

Kenny completely fucked Levi up. People that defend him or make excuses for him are making excuses for flat out child abuse and, yeah, also defending a serial killer. People don't seem to understand what serial killers are. What kind of people they are. They're literally incapable of caring about anyone, something we see demonstrated both through Kenny's failure when it came to his sister, and his failure when it came to Levi. They might be able to feign at having emotion for other people, they may be good at pretending. But in the end, they just aren't capable. They're sociopathic and completely devoid of empathy. How do people think Kenny would have treated Levi, then? This notion that he doted on him, or looked out for him and protected him is a sick joke. The very fact he abandoned him is in itself all the evidence one needs to understand Kenny mistreated him. Because not only did he abandon a ten year old child, he abandoned him in the most dangerous place inside the walls, and he also clearly fucked off for long enough periods of time before that for Levi to have to fend constantly for himself, again, inside the most dangerous place inside the walls, something evidenced by the fact that, on his own, Levi ends up nearly being beaten to death and sold into sexual slavery. Kenny wasn't in any way, shape or form a good or caring guardian to Levi, and the people that try to say he was, or who try to defend him, honestly make me sick. It's all driven by some lame-ass agenda they have to somehow lessen Levi's trauma or make his childhood seem not as bad as it clearly was. And that's usually to either, a. make out like some other character had it worse, or b. try to give someone other than Levi himself the credit for how he turned out.

Anyone who's going to stand there and try and defend Kenny and all the numerous ways in which he completely devastated Levi psychologically, from immersing him into brutal violence and death, literally teaching him how to kill and teaching him that to be able to kill is the only means of proving his worth, to then abandoning him without a word of explanation in a place filled with killers and rapists and human traffickers, a place without sunlight, a place literally disenfranchised completely from society, who's residents are less than second-class citizens... yeah, those people can go take a walk off a plank. I don't want to hear from them.

Screw Kenny. Levi deserved infinitely better than that POS.

[cantsayidont]

I keep seeing people point to the STAR TREK: TOS episode "Let That Be Your Last Battlefield" as an example of STAR TREK's progressive bona fides, which really gets up my nose because "Battlefield" is, along with "A Private Little War," "The Omega Glory," "The Paradise Syndrome," and a couple of others, among the half-dozen or so most politically unsavory TOS episodes, a statement of unvarnished white liberal contempt toward the civil rights movement.

First, like a lot of TREK, and like the superhero comic book stabs at "relevancy" in this period and afterward, the episode is, at a structural level, constructed to let the white middle-class liberal hero sit in judgment on contemporary social issues that only incidentally affect him, but which he is privileged to weigh from a position of presumptive neutrality. This is a common feature of the series, but it becomes especially pointed here because when this episode aired in January 1969, no viewer over the age of about 6 would be likely to miss what it was talking about; the episode originally aired just a little over nine months after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr.

It is noteworthy, then, that the script goes to particular lengths to distance Kirk and the other Enterprise regulars from the racial conflict between the black-and-white aliens Lokai (Lou Antonio) and Bele (Frank Gorshin). Spock goes so far as to insist that they are wholly outside known standards of "genetically possible" "gradiations of color" in humanoid beings! At no point does any of the crew express any sympathy or identification with Lokai; Chekov and Sulu regard racial persecution as an historical curiosity with which they have no experience, and even Spock, who experiences racial persecution on the regular, dismisses both Bele and Lokai as hopelessly irrational.

This is curious insofar as Lokai clearly describes conditions of material oppression that any Black person in America would immediately recognize: He says Bele's people "raided our homes, tore us from our families, herded us together like cattle, and then sold us as slaves," and that after slavery ended on their world, Lokai's people continued to be second-class citizens, "denied the simpest bit of decency that is a living being's right." They were even drafted into "a war on another planet," a clear reference to the then ongoing Vietnam War; this was the era when Muhammad Ali nearly went to prison for refusing conscription. Notably, Bele doesn't deny most of this except to chide Lokai's framing of it, telling Kirk, "They were savages, Captain. We took them into our hearts, our homes. We educated them."

Nonetheless, Kirk's primary reaction to both Lokai and Bele is annoyance. Kirk is not concerned with justice, or addressing historical injustice; his sole concern is the maintenance of Federation civil order. As is often the case on TOS, this is framed in economic terms: The Enterprise is supposed to be heading to a medical decontamination mission on the planet Ariannus, whose urgency is underscored by its importance "as a transfer point on regular commercial space lanes." (Kirk notes that the bacterial contamination he's supposed to address may "render it lifeless unless checked," but he presents that as an afterthought to the commercial urgency of the situation.) Kirk is also concerned with Lokai's appropriation of a Starfleet shuttlecraft, which appears to completely undermine any sympathy he might have otherwise had for Lokai. This also seems to be the position of Kirk's superiors; Uhura reports that Starfleet is entirely sympathetic to Bele and is likely to grant his request "after a hearing at Starbase," once the legal formalities have been observed. (Significantly, the possibility that Lokai might have a claim to political asylum, even temporarily, is never suggested.)

Kirk is SO preoccupied with maintaining economic, civil, and legal order that he's prepared to destroy the Enterprise himself rather than concede any ground even rhetorically. There is an apparently unintended parallel here with the revelation at the end of the episode that Cheron is now lifeless, its entire population wiped out by the racial conflict of which Lokai and Bele are the sole survivors, but the episode pretty obviously expects the viewer to find Kirk's position sensible and principled.

The episode's obvious thesis is that Black Power and Black protest are just as bad as the bigotry Bele represents, a kind of racial horseshoe theory underscored by Spock's eventual declaration, "To expect sense from two mentalities of such extreme viewpoints is not logical." Presumably, the "correct" course for Lokai's people would have been to accept their second-class roles in post-slavery Cheron society, work toward the furthering of economic order, and patiently wait for the "normal" forces of social evolution to bring about justice through legal means, and the episode unequivocally indicates that their failure to do so bears equal responsiblity for the apocalyptic genocide Spock says has taken place on Cheron. (There's an ugly parallel here with the racial politics implicit in the 1968 film PLANET OF THE APES, which kicks off what is at its core a very racist series.)

Throughout the episode, the script tries to play up the irrationality of Lokai and Bele by emphasizing that their conflict has taken place over thousands of years, but because we don't have any idea what their normal lifespan may be (there's no indication that their survival over the course of 50,000 years is due to suspended animation or time travel), or even how long they consider a year, this carries little weight, and it can't overcome the obvious familiarity of the conflict. In the real world, the American Civil War had only passed out of living memory about two decades before this episode was written, and until the passage of the Civil Rights Act less than four years earlier, it was still perfectly legal in many parts of the U.S. to refuse to hire, rent to, or sell to people of color, or to pay them less or charge them more based on race.

That Kirk's crew considers this ancient history is not the problem with the story; the problem is that the episode takes the obvious position that Black Americans should just get over still recent — and still ongoing, now as well as then — injustice and persecution. That's not a progressive viewpoint — it smugly exemplifies what Martin Luther King had called "allies more devoted to order than to justice." I imagine it was infuriating then except to the most self-congratulatory white liberal viewers, and it has not aged well at all.

[inquisimer]

Happy Fridayyy for DADWC: "I don’t judge people on their worst mistakes" and/or "going home isn’t an option anymore" for Hawke/Loghain?

thank you for the prompt gin!! I leaned into the first one for @dadrunkwriting tonight :3

-

It had become their spot, this abandoned dock that no one frequented. Sometimes she brought the booze and sometimes he did, or on days when things were particularly bad they both showed up with a bottle.

Today was one of those days.

Siobhan lowered herself to the half-rotted planks with a groan, kicking her boots aside so that she could dip her toes in the murky shallows lapping out of the cove. At her side, Loghain grunted, hand wrapped loosely around a bottle of whiskey almost half-gone. His grip tightened slightly as Siobhan settled in with a sigh.

"Don't worry," she smirked, pulling a paper-wrapped bottle into view. "I brought my own."

Loghain huffed, bringing his bottle to his lips. "It's just like that today, I suppose."

"Maker, it is."

They sat in companionable silence as the sun slunk down below the horizon. Finally, as dusk overtook the docks, Siobhan pressed herself firmly against Loghain's side and leaned back on her palms.

"So. Why are you drinking tonight?" she asked, head tipped back to look up at the stars. Loghain stole a glance sideways, lingering when she made no attempt to meet it. Her cheeks were wine-flushed, her eyes glittering in the moonlight. Her hair was mussed, as was the fur that adorned her neck, both a victim of her carding fingers.

"I spent the day in the alienage," he finally answered, a low, regret-filled rumble. He glanced away as she canted her head to look at him and brought his bottle back to his lips.

"So Merrill told me."

"Oh?" Loghain huffed, almost a hiccup, cleverly concealed against the lip of his whiskey bottle. He pressed his lips together, holding his breath until he trusted himself to speak evenly. "I'm surprised you came here, even so."

Siobhan swung her legs up onto the dock, tiny droplets of water staining the sun-dried planks. She sat crosslegged and stared directly at him, so there was no escaping her scrutiny except by taking another drink.

"Dwelling, then? That's as good a reason as I've ever heard for drinking."

Loghain closed his eyes, ran his teeth over gritty teeth. His regrets from the Blight were numerous, beyond counting. The Warden-Commander had told him to cease lingering on what he could not change.

None of us will ever forgive you, Tabris had said. You cannot live for that. Find a way to live for yourself.

Pretty words. But some days it was hard.

"I know what happened in Denerim, if that's what you're chewing on," Siobhan said casually, tearing at the paper that still encased her wine. "Not much worse you could have done to the alienage, from what I hear."

"No," Loghain grumbled. "There isn't. I thought differently at the time but--I was wrong."

Siobhan smirked, a caustic, cynical expression sharp enough to kill any of the bandits starting to awaken in the shadows. "Aren't we all, at one time or another."

"How can you be so calm?" Loghain challenged. He set his bottle aside with a pointed clink and it wobbled, not enough liquid left in it to immediately stabilize. "You count elves among your friends, the former slave well known for his hatred of Tevinter hunters."

"This is a very good wine," Siobhan offered. "And Fenris is out of town."

Loghain finally caught her cracked-marble eyes and all of the challenge they held within. He opened his mouth to decry her dismissal of his failures--then closed it again, unsure.

"You sold Ferelden citizens into slavery?" Siobhan said, a question that didn't sound questioning at all. "Well, I gave control of the city to a red-lyrium-crazed lunatic and murdered one of my closest friends in a fit of anger. Let's see which of us history remembers as a hero, hm?"

"Neither of us, if we're lucky."

"I'll drink to that," Siobhon snorted, raising her bottle to clink against the last of his whiskey. "I'll drink to that."

[raineydays411]

Christmas in space

Guardians of the Galaxy x Reader

Summary: Just some back story on the readers life and her relationships with some of the Guardians

the reader was taken at around 12, found at 15 and stayed with the guardians through infinity war and endgame, and she was on of the ones who wasn't blipped.

You don't really remember what Christmas was like for you. Sure you remember the concept and the general feeling, but when you try and think about your own personal experiences it comes up blank.

See, when you were taken from Earth, the aliens who took you wiped most of your memory. They wanted to make you into the perfect bride for their monarch and they couldn't do that with you fighting them the entire time. With your wiped mind, they managed to train into being the perfect citizen. They taught you languages from other planets, taught you how to use weapons to defend their royalty, how to be a diplomat.

They taught you their customs and their holidays. And for all intents and purposes it worked, you truly did forget your life on Earth.

Until you started having dreams.

Dreams of the life you had before you were kidnapped. Dreams of your parents and siblings. Dreams of girls nights with your friends. Of kisses with your partner.

And at first you thought nothing of it.

They were just dreams. You had a responsibility to your planet and your spouse. You couldn't waste time wondering about a life that only exists in dreams.

That was until the Guardians came.

They didn't come for you, no in fact they were surprised to see another terran so far in space, and a royal consort no less. Especially one so young. It was disturbing to them.

But they told them you were found on another planet by the royal guard, being sold as a slave. They saved you and as you had no other family, you became one of their own and fell in love. The same thing they told you.

It was Gamora who first pointed out the inconsistencies in the story.

There was no way you were being sold as a slave as you didn't meet the requirements. Also, this planet is known to think of Terrans as lower than them. So even if they saw a human in slavery, the royal guard shouldn't have intervened. Also this planet wasn't as technologically advanced as others, so even if they managed to get off world, they couldn't go far enough to find planets with a slave trade system advanced enough to have other species.

It all came to head on the night they were supposed to leave. Peter had overheard one of the council members frantically shouting at one of the scientists about the dreams you've been having.

See you had confided in what you thought was one of your closest friends on this planet about your dreams. It turns out that the mind wiping they did on you was experimental. They didn't know if it would wear off or if it would be permanent, so they had someone watching you at all times.

Lucky for you, it wore off after a few months.

And extra lucky for you, Peter just so happened to be snooping, and found a box containing the clothes and items you had on you when these aliens abducted you. Before he was spotted, Peter managed to sneak out and tell the news to his team. There was a slight argument on whether they should do something or not. Peter, Gamora, and Mantis all agreeing that they should save you and that you were basically a slave to your mind and Rocket didn't really want to start a whole war over one person. Drax and Groot were indifferent until Mantis said you were someone's daughter then Drax was all for saving you.

Saving you was a whole challenge within its self. You were heavily guarded, especially since you started regaining your memory. But again, luckily the guards just so happened to be in the middle of a shift change when Rocket and Groot snuck into your room. There they found you in the middle of a panic attack, as flashes of your past life started hitting you.

Your head burned as you were forced to remember moments of your life on earth.

Flashes of people you don't recognize but feel so familiar.

A woman who has the same eyes as you kissing you goodnight in a room that looks like a childs.

You running around the house chasing a child with the same hair as you

Being in a room with a tree covered in lights and surrounded by people as you open a box with a doll inside.

You barely even realize that you're being lead out of your room in a hurry by a little tree and a raccoon before being thrown over Drax's shoulder.

You were so frantic that Mantis had to put you to sleep because you were so distraught at the thought of your whole life being a lie. Everything you were groomed to be and the people you thought you could trust were fake.

Soon word got out that the Guardians were taking the princess, thus committing treason and that was punishable by death.

But by the time they truly realized you weren't in your room, it was too late. You were already on the Milano, and they were already long gone by then.

It took a few months for you to truly trust them.

At first only really warming up to those you deemed harmless (i.e Groot). Mantis was the second person you warmed up to as she helped you sleep, and sort through the jumble of memories in your head.

Then surprisingly it was Gamora you clung to the most, as one night she found you crying looking out into the stars and opened up to you about losing her family and how she also was groomed to become something she didn't want to be. And how she also went through a period of trying to figure out who she truly was. That conversation really did help you feel less like an imposter.

Eventually you came around. One day you just walked out of your room and sat with the team in the common area as if you've done it a million times, leaving everyone stunned.

They welcomed you with open arms though, and its more than you could have ever asked for.

But even with the guardians becoming you're new family, you still felt the loss of your old life. You had a good one. Friends, family, a partner. You were happy.

And it's not like you had the time to mourn them, they were ripped from your mind. And now that they're slowly coming back but its painful.

Aside from that, now your personality is coming in.

At first you were shy and quiet. You preferred to sit in your room until you were needed, just as the council groomed you to be. You didn't talk back nor did you speak unless you were spoken to. It bothered the Guardians at first. Especially Peter, as whenever he tried to speak to you about Earth you would regurgitate the bullshit the council had fed to you about being loyal to their planet and their regime.

Now don't get me wrong, Peter understood your position more than anybody on the ship. Being taken by aliens and all, but it frustrated him that the only other person from his home planet can't relate to him or his references (even though you really wouldn't have considering the age difference).

So, instead of getting mad he decided to share his stories. He told you about a bunch of 80's movies showed you his Zune full of songs that sounded familiar. He told you about the holidays and traditions that he could remember. It went over your head at first but as you slowly started gaining your memories back, all these things started to make sense. Soon you started going to Peter with a memory to see if he could explain it to you. And while he usually couldn't as your experience on Earth was different than yours, he was able to explain memories of Christmas to you. Well the general idea, because again you had a more modern experience on Earth than he did.

Like when you came to him with the image of a deer that was bullied because of his facial deformity, he was able to decipher that as being the story of Rodolph the red nosed reindeer.

When you came to him wondering why you remembered a large man in an elf costume ( you also didn't know what an elf was), he was slightly concerned that the mind wiping had some sort of side effect on your brain. ( He just doesn't know who Will Ferrell is).

The first year you spent with them they really didn't celebrate much with you. To be fair they didn't really have the means to have a big celebration. Although Rocket did come into your room late at night and threw a box containing your newly charged phone and the earphones you had on that night with a gruff,

"Here merry chripsmas or whatever"

And to this day it was the sweetest thing anyone has given you.

With your phone you were able to discover more about who you were. You saw that these people that you were dreaming of were real. You heard the voice of your mother for the first time in years. You didn't exactly know how to use it but you were so grateful for the little bit you discovered everyday.

With your phone came your rebellious teen stage. Which coincided with Groots so it really did get on everyone's nerves. Between Rocket and Peter lecturing Groot about leaving his leaves all over his room, they were lecturing you about ignoring them while they talked to you and pretending to speak a different language when you did respond to them.

And even with the constant fights and disagreements you were happy.

But then Thanos happened, and the war.

You watched as he took Gamora. You tried to help but got swatted away like nothing. You watch Peter run himself ragged trying to find where she is. You were on titan and watched as Peter lost control on Thanos because he killed Gamora. Then watched your family disintegrate and when you waited for your turn you realized that you weren't going with them. And that's when you broke.

You should have died, but you didn't. Instead you were stuck on the Milano with Nebula and Tony Stark slowly starving to death. It was ironic. The place you started to feel alive again was the same place you were going to die. You had accepted that fate despite Nebula and Tony trying to convince you otherwise.

The only thing that gave you the will to live was Nebula. She spoke to your door every day, you had locked yourself in your room waiting to die, and one day she just broke down.

She shouted at your door, angry at you for giving up. She called you weak, pathetic. She even tried to break down the door. But when none of what she was saying caused a reaction from you she sighed and sat with her back to your door.

Then she whispered, " Please, come out. Please I can't lose another sister."

And that's what got you to come out. You were weak, you only ate enough to barely keep you alive but you got out of bed. And that's when you were saved.

[likemosaic]

yotsuyu & canon interactions with zenos re: generally and what squeenix gives us. mentions of sex trafficking, suicide, and stormblood spoilers.

yotsuyu's experiences with men have all been capital b Bad. her parents died, her adoptive father was awful and sold her into sexual slavery, her brother tormented her seemingly for pure pleasure, and even men who promised to love her and take care of her and take her away from the brothel only wanted to use her--and yotsuyu knew it, so she took advantage of their kindness the same way they took advantage of her. being born beautiful was the worst thing in yotsuyu's life and after so many years of that being her only trait, yotsuyu doesn't know how to interact with a man outside of: 1) fawn on someone more powerful than her (zenos) or 2) torture someone weaker than her (doman citizens). it's why hien puts her into such a spitting rage: not only has his life seemingly been perfect and beautiful from her pov, but she's viscerally reminded that if she's not the viceroy and zenos has disavowed her, hien becomes above her, so to speak--and she's forced back into the fawning, simpering charade of ineptitude. and as evidenced by doma castle's destruction, yotsuyu would rather die than have that happen again.

by the time of stormblood, zenos is the only man yotsuyu has to "perform" this submissive fawning doman stereotype thing for as we briefly see in their cutscenes together, and even then...depending on the zenos i'm writing alongside, it really doesn't make a difference in his treatment of her. and canonly, in the end, he still discarded her without a second thought like an old toy once the WOL comes around. he was never really...dishonest with her? like he never promised her anything, and in a way, that was kinder than lying about affection or anything else. cruel to be kind etc.

but despite his flat out bluntness with her, she doesn't know how else to approach him, other than trying to manipulate him again and again! because powerful man trauma! and i don't think she can really process someone who doesn't fall into the "above me" or "beneath me" category. they seem like they would have a "powerful man and his beautiful mistress" dynamic and that's what yotsuyu expects and dreads....and then their dynamic DOESNT fit into that archetype, which perplexes her. it's actually incredibly kind of zenos to essentially let yotsuyu run amok in doma and get her vengeance without him breathing down her neck, even if its for a deeper more manipulative purpose.

so in the tsukiyomi trial, of course it makes sense that zenos comes to her at the final stage of "her life"; in the end, he was never really her lover, or even her friend or equal, but a means to an end: once for power, and in the tsukiyomi trial, as a means for suicide. and gosetsu following him immediately is really symbolic, because here's a man who didn't use her for ANYTHING, not for sex, not for doman oppression to find his perfect prey, he just wanted to be good to her and care for her...the first time anyone has ever done that for yotsuyu, ever. it shows that even zenos' "kindness" pales in comparison to someone who genuinely cares for her, and then that plays into his character in endwalker.....but that's a whole 'nother meta.

[doomed-prophetess]

hello! Sorry for barging in like this! (also sorry for my poor english too)

First I’d like to thank you for the recents posts bringing some very welcomed nuance to the character of Iklies I’m VADD. After the release of the new season cover, I felt like there was a significant wave of hate directed to the character - and, well, kinda for the wrong reasons? I mean, it’s absolutely understandable to not like him and call out the toxicity, but there were some readers who actively spread misinformation to get the character in a very bad light? And using some colonising rhetoric?? Guys??? This is not the take you might think this is???

I think I might’ve wanted to vent a bit with someone more open to a nuanced discussion, since I think the whole work is too well crafted to be reduced to a ‘black and white’ interpretation.

First what really caught my attention was using the description seen in the novel about how “Delman’s are savages” like?? 1. the poster themselves recognises that it’s a description used by Derrick (if I’m not mistaken), who is anything BUT a trustworthy source; 2. I bet the colonising, slaving country won’t have nice things to say about the people they just conquered? Not to mention is a description frequently used to even justify such actions, as it was in our own world (colonising nations having the “duty” to bring reason, advancement and enlightenment to such poor, barbaric people, who couldn’t know any better); 3. even if all of that was true, who is to say that every single countryman is like that? Are they not allowed to have their own individuality? Should we judge every Eorka citizen using Derrick as the standard then? Would that be fair?

Then what most caught my attention was the description that “He had a nice childhood, despite being a bastard (???), therefore he had it easy and by being such a violent man it only shows how much of a monster he’s always been”. I don’t even? Aside from the argument itself not making the slightest sense, from my reading of the novel the whole “bastard-lost prince” (a very beloved common trope for MLs in any other case, mind you) seemed pretty vague, and I thought it might’ve even been the result of Leila’s manipulation/mindcontrolling - since this way, with Iklies having some sort of “pedigree”, he would seem himself as “worthy” of Penelope, like Callisto (the Crown Prince) is. Was that part of his backstory truly confirmed? It could just be a wrong interpretation of mine, since it’s been some months since I’ve read it (thought, quite sincerely, I don’t think it being truth or not would change anything - the story starts with him being already a slave, being sold in an auction after fighting hungry dogs that would devour him to show his prowess for potential buyers, no amount of happy childhood will make this less f up).

Sorry for ranting so much! I was just really happy to see your posts and analysis!

Hope you have a nice day!

I remember that post! The pro slavery and colonising rhetoric was very uncomfortable to read and I think I blocked them after they tried to "educate" me in the comments of my posts and eventually used insults to force me to change my opinion.

I'm interested to see the passage that says Iklies allegiently had a good childhood when he was an illegitimate child of the King, because manhwas traditionally show the struggles and trauma of being a bastard. Princes often didn't have a good relationship with their half brothers. See the Ottoman Empire where they eventually legalized systematic fratricide. Furthermore if Delman is a warrior nation as implied and Iklies was really treated as a prince then wouldn't he have been expected to fight in the Livius war and gain combat experience? If he was then he's a child soldier and still didn't have a good childhood. If he was not then it's likely that he was just treated as a nobody. And no matter how good his childhood was it's not going to become an armor that can protect him against the trauma of having his rights stripped off him and treated like human garbage. What kind of logic is that anyway. Penelope didn't have a good childhood but Iklies had one that's why he deserves to suffer in the future, because he never had to suffer before?

"such a violent man it only shows how much of a monster he’s always been" I have huge issues when they call Iklies a psychopath or claim he was born evil. Together with them claiming that the people of Delman are thieving, murdering savages consumed by greed and violence. It doesn't only sound like stereotyping but also as if the root of the evil is in their genes. Which we know was historically used to justify ethnic clensing. They echo the words of Derrick who believes in the superiority of the Eorkan military power and the intrinsic evil of the Delman's that is defined by colonialism ideology. Why should we trust the words of someone who treated his own stepsister as a subhuman because she was of commoner blood? His family owns a diamond mine, he directly benefits from slavery. Of course he would defend it with every breath.

Certain Callisto stans/Iklies antis say the Delman people had it better in slavery than in freedom. How can the country of Delman be poor and uncivilized when the Eorkan military suffered huge losses due to Delman's archery skills? For Delman to last for years in a war against an Empire, the country would had to have an organized and well trained army, a food supply and a functioning infrastructure. The farmers would have lived comfortably enough that they could work hard and keep sending their army supplies throughout the years. The war would have been won in a week if Delman was really just a bunch of unwashed savages who didn't know left from right. Moreover if Delman wasn't a wealthy country and rich in natural resources the Eorkan Empire never would have invaded it. I even question the claim that Delman had been plundering from smaller countries, because if they had an army that could damage the Eorkan Empire that much why did they never annex the smaller countries? The plundering at the borders might have been done by thieves that had nothing to do with the army of Delman. Or it might have been just invented and used as an excuse to conquer them. Either way even if it was true, as you said, does that justify what happened to the cripples, the wives and children at home? "Your father was killed, your mother raped by soldiers, your younger sibling tortured to death and you were sold into slavery but you should be thankful because now you get to live in a civilized society serving your family's murders until they decide to do the same to you."

[paganimagevault]

Ancient Sogdian letters 1 & 3, about the year 313 CE. Miwnay and her daughter, Shayn, write to husband/father Nanai-dhat. According to Vladimir A. Livšic, Miwnay's name means "Little Tiger" and her husband's name means "Created by the Goddess Nanai". I'm not sure what Shayn's name meant.

"'From her daughter, the free-woman Miwnay, to her dear mother Chatis. I am very anxious to see you.'

History rarely remembers the little people. Our history books are full of stories of kings, queens, and conquerors; of influential men and wealthy people who lived in gilded castles. But the rest of us are forgotten.

The lives of countless ordinary people -- people who loved and lost and struggled and died – have been completely forgotten. To them, their lives were the most important thing in the world; but today, no one even remembers their names.

That’s what makes a box full of 1,700-year-old letters found in the Chinese town of Dunhuang so incredible. Because in that box are two letters written by an ordinary woman named Miwnay.

They’re a rare glimpse into the life of the Sogdian people who, in 313 AD, were living under Chinese rule. But more than that, they’re a glimpse into the love and pain that filled the life of an ordinary woman – one of only a few who will never be forgotten.

This wasn’t a polite formality. Miwnay’s letter was a plea for her life. She was trapped in Dunhuang, a town miles away from anyone she knew. Her husband had dragged her there three years ago, but now he was nowhere to be found.

He’d abandoned Miwnay and her daughter, Shayn, and hadn’t left them a penny to support themselves. And now Miwnay and her little girl, who had once been the pampered family of a wealthy merchant, were starving to death.

“I live wretchedly, without clothing, without money,” Miwnay told her mother. “I ask for a loan, but no-one consents to give me one.”

She hadn’t seen her husband for years. He’d even stopped writing. Miwnay had given up on waiting. Her only hope now was to get out of this town and get back to her mother’s home – the only place she’d ever felt at home.

For a woman with an absent husband in the year 313 AD, though, leaving Dunhuang wasn’t an easy task. By the laws of her land, Miwnay wasn’t allowed to leave unless her husband gave her permission.

Sogdian women, like Miwnay, were second-class citizens in Dunhuang. Their homeland, Sogdia, had once been a province in the Persian Empire; now, though, Miwnay was living in China’s Gansu province, just outside the frontier wall that divided China from the rest of Asia. And there, the Chinese made the rules.

Many of them ended up being a sold into sexual slavery. It was a common fate for Sogdian women, especially the poor. They would be bound up and sold off to the wealthiest Chinese, who had the legal right to beat them, tie them up, and do anything they wanted to do them.

Miwnay, in a way, had been lucky. She’d married a Sogdian man named Nanai-dhat, a merchant who’d placed his home on the Silk Road. There was a good chance that he was a wealthy man – the Sogdians, it’s said, were experts at making a fortune through trade.

By law, if she couldn’t get her husband’s consent, she would have to get the consent of his closest relative, a man named Artivan. But Artivan had refused, and no one would help her. Everyone she turned to told her the same thing: “Wait. … Perhaps Nanai-dhat would come.”

But Nanai-dhat wasn’t coming. Nobody knew where he was – and if Miwnay couldn’t get out of Dunhuang, there was a chance she’d end up like those other poor women, left with no choice but to sell their daughters as slaves.

Miwnay’s other letter, directed to her husband, Nanai-dhat, opens with a long stream of gushing platitudes, almost as if her husband were a God:

“To my noble lord and husband Nani-dhat, blessing and homage on bended knee, as is offered to the Gods. And it would be a good day for him who might see you healthy, happy, and free from illness, together with everyone; and sir, when I hear news of your good health, I consider myself immortal!”

All that over-the-top praise, though, was just what was expected in Sogdian culture . As soon as they were out of the way, Miwnay got vicious:

“I would rather be a dog’s or a pig’s wife than yours!”

Miwnay’s family, she reveals in the letter, had begged her not to follow her husband to Dunhuang. She’d tagged along, though, starry-eyed with love, only to be abandoned. Nanai-dhat hadn’t written to her in a long time. The only letter she’d gotten from him was a chiding, reminding her “how to serve the Chinese.”

But that was Miwnay’s greatest fear. If Nanai-dhat didn’t come back soon, she and her daughter – females who had once enjoyed the life of freedom in a wealthy man’s home – really would become servants to the Chinese.

There was a post-script on that second letter, added by Miwnay’s daughter, Shayn, that seems to have been written a little later. Everything Miwnay feared, it seems, had come true. Shayn writes:

“We have become the servants of the Chinese, I together with my mother.”

A family friend named Farnkhund had ruined them. Miwnay had hoped that Farnkhund would take her and her daughter out of Dunhuang, but Farnkhund let them down. He had built up an incredible amount of debt from the Chinese, though, and now he was on the run, and the Chinese soldiers were trying to hunt him down.

Miwnay and Shayn had inherited his debts. Shayn was a peasant girl now, watching over a flock of animals to survive.

When the man in their family left, they’d lost everything. And, as women living in the 4th century Gansu, they were forbidden to do anything about it.

Nobody knows for sure what became of Miwnay and Shayn. Those two letters are the only clues that they were ever even alive.

Miwnay’s letters, though, never reached their destinations. They were intercepted by a Chinese guard and locked in a box on the frontier wall , hidden away and forgotten until an archaeologist found them in 1907.

Miwnay’s mother never read her daughter’s plea for help. Her husband never read Shayn’s note telling him what had become of his family. And whatever fate greeted them when it was all done was likely a dark one.

But there was still one hope. In her letter to her mother, Miwnay revealed that there was still one person looking out for her:

“I depend on charity from the priest. He said to me: If you go, I will give you a camel, and a man should go with you, and on the way, I will look after you well.”

Perhaps the holy man who’d given her clothes to wear and food to eat went through with his promise. Perhaps he gave her a camel and a man to help her sneak past the guards. Perhaps she made her way home to her mother and lived out a peaceful life, back among her family.

The only thing that we know for sure is that Miwnay accomplished one incredible thing: she made her story heard. Though she could never have expected it, Miwnay managed to make her life one of the few that is thought of more than a thousand years later.

Miwnay, like all people, died. But her story is remembered."

-Mark at Ancient-Origins, 'Heart Wrenching Letters Reveal the Traumatic Life of Miwnay, A Sogdian Woman in China 1,700 Years Ago'

Translations of the two letters (translation by Prof. Nicholas Sims-Williams, University of London):

"Sogdian Ancient Letter No. 1 [Verso] From her daughter, the free-woman Miwnay, to her d[ear] mother [Chatis].

[Recto] [From her dau]ghter, the free-woman Mi[wnay], to her dear [mother] Chatis, blessing and homage. It would be a good day for him who might [see] you healthy and at ease; and [for me] that day would be the best when we ourselves might see you in good health. I am very anxious to see you, but have no luck. I petitioned the councilor Sagharak, but the councilor says: Here there is no other relative closer to Nanai-dhat than Artivan. And I petitioned Artivan, but he says: Farnkhund ..., and I refuse to hurry, I refuse to ... And Farnkhund says: If your husband’s relative does not consent that you should go back to your mother, how should I take you? Wait until ... comes; perhaps Nanai-dhat will come. I live wretchedly, without clothing, without money; I ask for a loan, but no-one consents to give me one, so I depend on charity from the priest. He said to me: If you go, I will give you a camel, and a man should go with you, and on the way I will look after you well. May he do so for me until you send me a letter!

Sogdian Ancient Letter No. 3 [Verso] From (his) daughter Shayn to the noble lord Nanai-dhat.

[On another part of the verso] From (his) servant [left unfinished].

[Recto] To (my) noble lord (and) husband Nanai-dhat, blessing (and) homage on bended knee, as is offered to the Gods. And (it would be) a good day for him who might see you healthy, happy (and) free from illness, together with everyone; and, sir, when I hear (news of) your (good) health, I consider myself immortal!

Behold, I am living ..., badly, not well, wretchedly, and I consider myself dead. Again and again I send you a letter, (but) I do not receive a (single) letter from you, and I have become without hope towards you. My misfortune is this, (that) I have been in Dunhuang for three years thanks(?) to you, and there was a way out a first, a second, even a fifth time, (but) he(!) refused to bring me out. I requested the leaders that support (should be given) to Farnkhund for me, so that he may take me to (my) husband and I would not be stuck in Dunhuang, (for) Farnkhund says: I am not Nanai-dhat’s servant, nor do I hold his capital. I also requested thus: If he refuses to take me to (my) husband, then ... such support for me that he may take me to (my) mother. The leaders say: Here in Dunhuang there is no other relative closer than Artivan, (but) Artivan [say]s: Farnkhund ... whatever ... to do for you. If(?) I(?) (had) no guarantee, no protection, my father ... I have become ... not ... How much more would I have ... by my father if ... a servant of the Chinese! A free man ... who found ... and ... keeps (his) clothing in good condition(?). And you write (your) bidding to me about everything in ... so that I should ... you and I should know how to think, and if I do not ... you, then you write to me so that I should know how to serve the Chinese. In my paternal abode I did not have such a restricted ... as with(?) you. I obeyed your command (lit. took your command upon my head) and came to Dunhuang and I did not observe (my) mother’s bidding nor (my) brothers’. Surely(?) the Gods were angry with me on the day when I did your bidding! I would rather be a dog’s or a pig’s wife than yours! And for me ...

Sent by (your) servant Miwnay. This letter was written in the third month on the tenth day.

[Added in the margin] From (his) daughter Shayn to the noble lord Nanai-dhat, blessing (and) homage. And (it would be) a good [day] for him [who] might see [you] healthy, rested (and) happy. ... I have become ... and I watch over a flock of domestic animals. Differently to you, I had a ..., and ... went out. I am ... and I know that you do not lack twenty staters(?) to send. It is necessary to consider the whole (matter). Farnkhund has run away; the Chinese seek him but do not find him. Because of Farnkhund’s debts we have become the servants of the Chinese, I together with (my) mother."

[wuxiaphoenix]

Book Review: K.A.T. Antiques

K.A.T. Antiques, by Pam Uphoff. I’d give this one a 4.5 out of 5 stars; it’s shorter than I’d like, I could have read the hijinks, house fixes, and attempted murders for quite some more time, but OTOH it doesn’t drag or dawdle. A very good take-you-out-of-your-own-head story!

It’s technically book 5 in her Chronicles of the Fall series, but also a stand-alone novella. Which, honestly, is one reason I got it, rather than, say, book one of any of her longer series. (Some are very, very long!) I hadn’t read more than a sample or two of her works before, and I just wanted a taste before I dove headfirst into what might be A Large Universe With Lots of Characters.

This is a good taste.

This is an SF set in the future, with a culture in some ways very unlike our own. If you think being under the thumb of abusive family until you’re eighteen is bad, try a world in which yes, people might reach two centuries, but your father or guardian has a legal say in your marriage and other affairs until you’re fifty. If you want to be a legal citizen, you have to win the right... by killing a government-chosen opponent hand to hand (mental powers allowed). And if your legal guardian doesn’t choose to allow you to be Presented for that fight, you end up a chipped slave. Which is... well. Worse than slavery as we know it here, because the chipped can be mind-controlled. Among other things.

Imagine being sixteen-year-old Karl Traeger, waking up to find your responsible, loving, but much older father dead, and knowing that you’re going under the guardianship of his nearest brother, who both hates you and is deep in debt. Meaning he could solve two problems by having you chipped and sold.

Well. Cue shutting down the tears - tears come later - and immediately taking the much-less-than-legal steps needed to fudge the paperwork and get to that fight, so you can become a legal person before any cops can show up....

I love responsible characters. I love characters who think, and plan, and try to protect people they care about. This is a good story for that; and also for showing how people can be very irresponsible, and how that creates nasty fallout for everyone around them. On top of that, it shows both lazy cops and good ones, and notes how some good cops may suspect that Karl did something a little hinky... but it wasn’t related to their murder investigation, so they’re not going to ask.

(Because they can see exactly what kind of mess a sixteen-year-old would have been in if he hadn’t messed with the paperwork, and no. No kid deserves that.)

I think I may be getting a bunch of these other stand-alones as I get the chance. This story was fun!

[sociallyrepressed]

I’ve been thinking about sw au and idk if it’ll ever take off the ground but here’s what I’ve got for ship dynamics (tentatively):

[also I am completely aware that this delves into some serious topics for a silly little Star Wars au]

Lestappen

one of my plot points is Max’s dad was a renegade dark force user (although not an apprentice) but did a lot of work for Palpatine, so when Max was born some combo of his dad and Sidious did enough damage that if he ever comes into contact with the light side of the force, it destroys his essence- they did this to ensure he would never stray to the light side bc he’s powerful in his own right but he’s not good enough to replace Anakin Skywalker

enter Charles Leclerc

blah blah blah plot plot plot enemies to lovers

it physically hurts them both when they come into contact with each other but it doesn’t really stop them

the theme is people who hurt each other can also love each other, maybe it’ll end well maybe it won’t

Galex

Alex was an assassin picking up odd jobs until he got mixed into business he shouldn’t have been involved in

George was a senatorial figure (as much as they could have senators once the chancellor took over) but he spoke against the unsustainable tariffs imposed over Outer Rim planets and lack of support for citizens, dug a little too deep into research and BAM suddenly he’s the victim of an assassination plot

the theme is basically that even if you’ve done bad things and hurt good people, you aren’t irredeemable or unlovable (Alex killed a good number of innocent people because he had to for survival and George had some shady dealings in the past)

Lando

so I haven’t put him in a ship bc he’s aroace in this au, which means if he ever had a partner it’d be more on the queer platonic side of the spectrum and I haven’t decided yet

also tw for sa mentioned

Lando’s family didn’t support the Chancellor, and were very public about it

they were a very prominent family and couldn’t be just killed outright so they were “moved” (read: sold into slavery in the outer rim)

he was technically bought by Jabba and not gonna go into any details but in short he was used for his body in trade for information

this is a very personal topic to me and I’m sure a lot of aroace folks so my goal is to be able to reflect on the relationship between sexual intimacy and being sex-repulsed (not generalizing that all aroace people don’t like sex, but just for the sake of the specific point I’m trying to make, Lando is)

exploring the theme of trauma vs. sexuality